This sleek revival is undeniably chic, but its satire lacks bite and its score struggles to amaze.Rating
Good
Has there ever been a story less obviously suited to a musical adaptation than AmericanPsycho? Already immortalised as a cult 2000 film from Bret Easton Ellis’ brutally satirical 1991 novel, The Almeida’s production presents an opportunity for it to gain an even wider audience. With a video wall floor and a stage platform working overtime to shift locations, the musical’s tone gets all muddled up, with the lines between satire, psychodrama, horror and empathy blurring.
This production is a revival from 2013 at the Almeida. And its return is unsurprising, since American Psycho already sits comfortably in the pop culture canon. The staging has evolved, now more aligned with the Broadway transfer than the original production. In the opening, a steamy shower cubicle rises through a central platform, with Patrick Bateman (Arty Froushan) emerging to tell us, “this is what being Patrick Bateman means to me”. Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s book then offers a largely faithful retelling, with Bateman guiding us as both protagonist and narrator.
The design is undeniably stylish. Video screens covering the entire floor transport us between offices, nightclubs and swimming pools, punctuated by flashes of devilish red as Bateman embarks on his killing sprees. Previous sightline issues appear resolved, with a sparse stage usually defined by a single prop or feature. Duncan Sheik’s score is a genre-defying synth pop fantasia, which both satirises and salutes the sound of the 80s. Elusive melodies thematically echo both the set and Bateman’s own emptiness, but practically make the tunes of several songs hard to hold. These are offset by well-sung choral arrangements of 80s classics like ‘In the Air Tonight’ and ‘Don’t You Want Me?’But it all added to the show’s overall muddled presentation.
The production certainly has its moments. The business card scene is everything you could hope for, revealing a glimpse of Bateman’s brittle vanity and creeping psychosis, and featuring a song about being ‘such a card’.
Political jabs – including references to Donald Trump and The Art of the Deal – land with queasy prescience, bolstered by Oli Higginson’s eerily accurate impression. Jon Clark’s lighting design stands out, particularly in the theatre scene where Bateman and Evelyn (Emily Barber) watch Les Misérables. Nightclub scenes energise the space, with performers spilling off the platform to use the edges as bars, sliding drinks with choreographed precision. Undoubtedly, director Rupert Goold has done a slick job at reimagining what was his first show at the Almeida.
The piece does have pacing problems, particularly in the second half, where the action feels more sluggish. Violence is surprisingly muted, with much of the horror outsourced to the video design. Some musical numbers stall the action; ‘Nice Thought’, sung by Bateman’s mother (Kim Ismay), is beautifully delivered but dramatically static when the running time is 2 hours 45 minutes.
There is no doubt this is a talented ensemble. Froushan’s Bateman is horrifying and existential, if a little empathetic in his presentation. Higginson as Timothy Price oozes with slick privilege, while Anastasia Martin brings unexpected emotional weight to Jean, especially in the apartment scene, alongside impressive vocals. The rest of the ensemble drift about the edges of the stage platform, body popping their way from a dinner party to the club to… being murdered.
In a way, the production feels too sleek for its own good. The minimalism and emptiness are thematic, but it lends the production an unfortunate evanescence. The satire lacks bite, and there aren’t any standout moments of terrifying horror. The impressive, if a little frantic, choreography can’t make up for the other-worldly score which struggles to impress. Still, the packed, notably young audience suggests the show’s cult appeal remains undiminished, and for devoted fans, the aesthetic thrill and cultural cachet may well outweigh its dramatic shortcomings.
Based on the novel by: Bret Easton Ellis
Book by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa
Music and Lyrics by Duncan Sheik
Directed by Rupert Goold
Choreography by Lynne Page
Set Design by Es Devlin
Sound Design by Dan Moses Schreier
Video Design by Finn Ross
Lighting Design by Jon Clark
American Psycho runs at the Almeida until Saturday 14 March.
